


shotgun, backseat, steering wheel

by keyringkie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Mentioned Callahan (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Mentioned Luke | Punz, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Ponk | DropsByPonk (Video Blogging RPF), Of Younger Brothers and Longer Nights, but take it anyways, not sure what this is, ybln
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyringkie/pseuds/keyringkie
Summary: High school has its ups and downs.A lot of different things can happen behind the driver's wheel.- + -a trip through Tommy's high school life, as told through glimpses of car rides.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 70





	shotgun, backseat, steering wheel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lillian_nator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_nator/gifts).



“Oh my  _ god _ this song is so DUMB-”

“SHUTTHEFUCKUP GEORGE THIS IS A GOOD SONG-”

“Karl, you’re sitting on my hand-”

“Callahan I  _ know _ you’re a sexy motherfucker but kindly get your ass out of my face-”

There’s eleven of them crammed into a car made for five, laughter and playful arguments barely audible over the radio, blasting music as they drive.

The digital clock on the dashboard blinks a reminder that time is passing, a simple nudge of  _ 3:49am _ catching Tommy’s eye. He grins, bouncing his leg and causing Tubbo to yelp.

“Tommy don’t do that, I’ll fall off-”

He laughs, feeling Tubbo readjust himself and leaning more on the car door. Quackity sings along to the radio, his shrill voice cutting above all the other chatter in the car. Karl laughs, dancing along to Quackity’s singing in the little space he has. Sapnap nods along from behind the wheel, bopping his head in time with the beat. Dream grins at Tommy from the space in front of the passenger seat, jostled about from the bumps of the road and George moving his legs around. Punz and Purpled are both somehow asleep, with Ponk and Callahan sprawled across them.

They turn a corner and suddenly everyone in the backseat is shouting, sliding about from the sudden movement. There’s a few complaints and Dream cackles from his space in the front, making a face.

“SHOTGUN SUPERIORITY!”

Sapnap laughs as he turns another corner, ignoring the protests from the back. “You’re not even  _ in _ shotgun you goddamn simp, gave it to George-”

“YEAH! Bastard acts all high and mighty but he’s giving himself back problems-”

Quackity stops singing for a moment, pointing at Dream and wiggling his eyebrows. He nearly bangs his head on the ceiling when the car hits a road bump, cursing loudly.

Dream laughs, rubbing his neck. “I’m not a simp-”

“ANY ASKERS?”

The car bursts into laughter as they drive through the town, each of them wanting the night to last a little longer, to drive a little farther, to play one more song.

Wilbur hums from beside Tommy, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. Familiar guitar melodies float through the car, the same playlist he’s had on every morning this year.

Tommy sips at his coffee, half-asleep still. He hadn’t been out last night, but practice was brutal. He has his window cracked open, the crisp morning air a welcome change from the stuffy warmth of his room. The wind cuts at him playfully, teasing his messy hair back.

It’s calm in the car. He yawns, stretching as much as he can in the front seat. Wilbur glances at him for a second, smiling faintly. Despite all that’s happened this semester, the routine’s the same.

They’re silent but for the music, enjoying the morning, watching the world wake up as the two drive to school.

“Tommy, what the  _ fuck. _ ”

Wilbur glares ahead of him, fingers fidgeting in his lap. He strums at guitar strings that aren't there, a random habit he picked up to try to get his nerves out.

Schlatt casts a worried glance into the rear view mirror, catching a glimpse of Tommy.

The kid’s high. It’s obvious, really. The streetlamps flash by, lighting up his face for a second at a time. Tommy stares out the window, barely hearing Wilbur rant in the front seat. He’s in his own world.

Schlatt takes a hand off the wheel and taps Wilbur on the shoulder, pausing him for a moment.

“He’s not here right now, Wil.”

Wilbur smacks Schlatt’s hand away, anger still focused out the windshield. “That doesn’t change the fact that he was fucking  _ arrested _ .”

Schlatt sighs, stopping at the light. He stares at it, waiting for red to turn green.

“He’s a teenager.”

“So? For fuck’s sake, we’re teenagers too and we've never been arrested-”

“Just- at least take care of him before you start yelling?”

Wilbur scowls, drumming his fingers on the door. A moment of silence passes. Tommy giggles quietly.

And then Wilbur  _ explodes _ .

“He’s- HE’S FUCKING  _ LAUGHING _ AFTER GETTING ARRESTED! HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE BETTER THAN THIS-” Tommy clutching his head because  _ oh, it’s loud now, that hurts _ and staring down at the car floor- “IT’S ALL THAT GREEN BASTARD’S FAULT-”

“Phil will-”

“SHOULD WE TALK ABOUT PHIL, THEN? TALK ABOUT HOW I HAD TO RAISE MY BROTHER AND HOW HE BARELY RAISED ME? WHAT’S HE GOING TO DO?”

“Dunno. Ground him?”

Wilbur flops backwards, slumping in his seat. “Yeah fucking right. He can try. Not like it’s gonna stop Tommy.”

Schlatt exhales slowly, glancing at Wilbur. He’s a mess, honestly - hair in a tizzy from tugging at it and running his hand through too many times, glasses slightly askew. Schlatt turns back to the road, letting the silence engulf the car again.

He hugs his backpack in his lap, bouncing his right leg nervously.

It’s the first time Dream’s ever driven him to school. His face feels weird from crying so much last night, and he still feels guilty for crashing on Dream with no notice. 

_ Wilbur screaming at the top of his lungs, shouting how he fucked up, he’s  _ the  _ fuck up, his friends suck and he sucks. It’s not fair. It’s not FAIR. They pretend to care when they’ve done worse, pretend to believe in him and screw him over when he messes up. _

_ Storming up to his room and getting yelled at more and storming out of the house and running, running, running. _

_ He knocks on Dream’s front door and almost dies when his mom - his  _ mom!  _ \- answers the door. What a fucking sight that must’ve been, a sniveling teenager who looked like he’d just been to hell and back interrupting your lovely family dinner. _

_ Dream is here. Dream is safe. He hugs him close and sobs into his chest. His ass is cold on the pavement curb, heels kicking uselessly at the asphalt. _

_ He had nowhere else to go. _

It’s quiet but for the hum of the engine, the thrum of the road. Dream covers a yawn with his left hand, never taking his eyes off the road.

Tommy shifts in his seat, slumping back comfortably. Last night was a mess. He doesn’t really want to go to school today but Dream forced him into the car when he asked if he could ditch.

It’s different from what he’s used to. A good different.

The silence is what gets to him the most. The distinct lack of music is almost jarring.

_ Wilbur always had music on. _

They pull into a parking lot and Tommy looks up.

“This isn’t school.”

Dream cracks a smile at him, pulling up to the drive thru. “Nope. What’dya want?”

A few minutes later, they’ve got a dozen donuts in the backseat for the rest of the gang. Dream parks in the lot, the two eating away at the bag of donut holes that sits between them, two equally full paper cups of coffee in the cupholders.

Tommy traces the bold orange letters on the side with his thumb, downing another Munchkin. Dream grins behind his cup of coffee.

Dunkin’ Donuts fixes everything.

“Don’t forget to-”

“Blinker, got it.”

Dream grins, shifting in the shotgun seat of his own car. “You’re getting better at this!”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

The two laugh as Tommy turns a corner, jerking slightly.

“Don’t be so harsh turning the wheel. You’ve got the speed down though, that’s good.”

They coast along the nearly empty street, driving through a quiet neighborhood. The clock gently reminds them  _ 1:54am _ .

Tommy brakes harshly, both wincing slightly as the seat belts dig into their shoulders.

“Sorry. Didn’t see the stop sign.”

Dream shrugs, leaning on the window.

“Whole point of this is to learn! Don’t worry, I was hot garbage when learning.”

“I can tell.”

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

Tommy laughs, pushing the gas down lightly as the two loop through the neighborhood again.

The car door slams behind him as he tosses his bag into the backseat, hurriedly buckling his seatbelt and hissing at Dream to _ drive, go, god fucking damnit- _

It takes a few seconds for Dream to realize that that’s  _ Tommy _ and they take off immediately, driving towards campus.

Tommy takes a few minutes to breathe, running a hand through his hair.

“I know Tubbo and Purpled said you were dying your hair but it still threw me off.”

Dream’s tone is lighthearted, gently gauging Tommy’s state. He sighs, slumping down in the seat.

“Yeah. Wilbur lost it this morning. What d’you think of it?”

“Black suits you. Makes you look badass.”

Tommy laughs. “You don’t gotta lie to me big man, it was dollar store hair dye.”

Dream glances at Tommy with a smile on his face, shrugging. “Nah, I mean it. You look cool!”

“Plus, Punz told me that Purpled said that you guys spent like $50 on all the hair dye.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, we were buying for three of us, ‘course it was expensive.”

“Alright Mr. Dollar Store Hair Dye-”

“OOOHH I WOULD STRANGLE YOU IF YOU WEREN’T DRIVING-”

Techno and Tommy sit in the car, paper crowns light on their heads as they split twenty chicken nuggets, a large fries, and a vanilla milkshake. The fluorescent lights of the restaurant spill through the windshield, giving the dashboard a weird glow.

Tommy grabs a handful of fries and dunks them in the shake, tossing them into his mouth and quickly chasing it with a nugget. Techno hums from beside him, eating at a considerably more reasonable pace.

Techno’s phone is propped up between them, a playlist of shitty Vine compilations working its way through as they eat. Tiny numbers read  _ 9:49pm _ .

Tommy laughs to himself, popping off his own crown and stacking it atop the one Techno is already wearing.

“Now you’re- now you’re  _ really _ the Burger King.”

Tubbo leans between the gap in the front seats, awkwardly scrolling through Tommy’s phone and looking for music to play. Purpled fiddles with his hoodie strings, tapping his foot quietly as Tommy drives the three of them around.

They’re not going anywhere in particular - they’ve got nowhere to be. The shitty alarm clock Tubbo duct-taped to the dashboard glows neon green in the dim lighting, numbers reading off  _ 11:49pm _ .

Tubbo never bothered with his license - driving made him nervous and he never felt like he could focus properly behind the wheel - and Purpled didn’t make a huge deal about his license. He passed the test and Punz went on a short road trip with him. Tommy and Tubbo didn’t pry.

Tommy jitters in the driver’s seat, grinning. He  _ actually did it _ . Passed the exam. That’s all thanks to Dream, honestly. He might’ve never learned if Dream hadn’t offered.

Tubbo grins, clicking onto a playlist. Tommy and Purpled groan in unison as Rooftop Run: Act 1 blasts through the car speakers.

“It’s a good song!”

“It’s  _ midnight _ and we’re  _ driving _ and you play  _ Sonic music _ ?”

“...yeah?”

Ranboo pulls out of the empty WalMart parking lot, Tommy and Tubbo yelling along to  _ Never Gonna Give You Up.  _ Purpled rolls his eyes from the passenger seat, the smile never leaving his face.

“Your taste in music is shit.”

Ranboo sputters in defense, turning a corner onto the main road. “Tubbo’s the one with the aux. I swear I have never unironically listened to this song-”

“Okay Mr. Lemon Demon.”

Ranboo laughs, his shoulders shaking as they drive through the neighborhood. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Tommy leans over Ranboo’s shoulder, grinning. “Don’t tell me you’re tired of our shit?”

“I regret ever talking to any of you three.”

They laugh, lightheartedly poking fun at each other. Tommy’s head swims, the light buzz of alcohol coursing through his body. He and Tubbo split a small drink, just for kicks. Nothing major.

Ranboo brakes cautiously, glancing around the road before continuing towards Tommy’s house. He knows the way by heart at this point, which is dumb since he’s only lived around here for a few months now.

The song switches and Ranboo perks up, the opening notes of Cabinet Man blaring through the speakers. “Speaking of Lemon Demon-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake-”

Tommy takes another turn, hands white on the steering wheel. Tears prick at his eyes and he blinks them away furiously, navigating the road carefully. He can’t afford to cry right now, he’ll crash, that would be-

Bad. To say the very least.

He gives up and pulls over, parking his car. He glares at the road and smacks his hand against the steering wheel.

“FUCKING HELL-”

He hits the horn. Holds it for a few seconds. And then bangs his forehead against the steering wheel, screaming.

He really can’t do anything right. Phil confirmed that, didn’t he? He’s breathing too fast, fuck fuck fuck fuck-

He slams his hands on the steering wheel again, sobbing. Cars whizz past every few minutes, their blinding headlights making his head swim. He rests his forehead on the wheel, trying to steady his breathing. He’s so close. Twenty more minutes, maybe. He managed to keep it together for  _ so long _ .

He hiccups and wipes his face, giving up. He reaches for his phone, hands shaking as he dials Wilbur’s number.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Tommy?”

“Had a fight with Phil.”

He exhales slowly, listening to Wilbur shift.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m.. twenty minutes away. Can’t drive. Can’t see the road clearly.”

“Send me your location. I’ll be there in fifteen. Don’t hang up, okay?”

The road is quiet.

He cruises along, letting the comfort of his mixtape wash over him. Tommy’s alone for once, not having told anyone he was going out.

There’s a comfort in the empty road and the dark sky, sporadic lights flashing by from the stray car and streetlamp. He’s alone but not lonely.

Wilbur told him once that he used to go on drives with Schlatt and fuck around until 3am at a gas station, with cigarette smoke thick in the air.

He glances out the window, away from the windshield. Takes a second to stare at the emptiness that’s out here. Smiles faintly. It’s unfamiliar, but not in a bad way.

The sun peeks over the horizon. He turns the car around.

“You’re graduating this year, yeah?”

Tommy hums in agreement, waiting for the light to turn green. Wilbur’s visiting for the weekend. Tommy went to pick him up, for no reason other than he wanted to.

Wilbur nods, shifting in his seat.

“I’m proud of you, Toms.”

Tommy glances at his brother as the light changes, grinning.

“I know. Thanks for not giving up on me.”

Wilbur scoffs as Tommy hits the gas, making a right towards their house.

“I would never. Can’t leave my brother behind like that.”

Tommy bites his lip to try to stop from smiling, mostly unsuccessful. He turns into their driveway, parking easily. He climbs out the car, keys jangling in his hands. Wilbur pulls him into a hug, running his fingers through his hair.

“Thanks, Wil.”

**Author's Note:**

> the way this idea's been sitting in my head for like a month and i finally wrote it. pain.
> 
> anyways YBLN is lillian's au :)
> 
> hope you enjoyed


End file.
